Gamble
by Ficalicious
Summary: "G" in the Alphabet Series. A man. A woman. A lab. He's the gambler. Will he take his chance?


**Gamble**

**So silly me, I forgot F in the Alphabet Series and wrote this instead. I will write F now. But here is G. A man, a woman and a lab. The man is a gambler. Will he take his chance? I don't own them. Please review!**

The lab was still and silent. The lights were dimmed, the night security on. It was more or less empty, or at least, as empty as a building that housed thousands of remains could be. It was creepy, if one thought about it for too long. There was no sound bar the footsteps of a determined man as he walked through the cavernous rooms. He was on a mission. He was meeting someone. A woman. Even if she didn't know that he was on his way.

His polished black shoes clicked as they ascended the cold metal steps. His suit jacked made a faint swishing noise as his arms moved, his hands gripping the steel rails. His eyes were trained on her door, on the light glowing there. She was still working, never left if she was given the choice. Her commitment and focus were rivalled by none other. But tonight he was going to make her see something knew.

Tonight he was going to make her see him.

His heart pounded in his chest as he reached the balcony. He was nervous, despite his calm exterior. His palms felt sweaty, his breathing shallow, his pupils dilated. All of these things, he knew, she would analyse and give some scientific reason and cause for. But he knew it was his proximity to her. He knew it was because of what he was doing. What he was going to do. He swallowed, determining to follow this through.

His hand was on the door knob, and he paused, a strong wave of nerves overwhelming him. Gritting his teeth he knew this was right, what had to be done. And then the door was open and he was walking across the room and he swept her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

She was surprised. He could feel it in her body, the way her hands pressed against his shoulders in shock, the yelp of surprise she let out as his lips claimed hers. He used to his advantage, slipping his tongue between those delicate pink lips and tracing over her quivering tongue. His hands delved into the rapturous curls that were her hair, pulling the hair tie out and dropping it to the floor. It was then, as his nails lightly trailed along her scalp, that he felt her body mould to his and her protestations turn to moans of pleasure. He knew he had her, then, and he determined to keep her.

He kissed her until neither of them had any air left and they _had _to break apart to breathe. She caught his impassioned gaze in her own and he felt himself go weak at the knees at the passion he saw burning there. Unbeknownst to him, he had ignited a passion in her that she had been keeping well-schooled and dormant. She attacked his lips, desperate to maintain contact, to taste him further. He was more than willing to acquiesce and he pulled her to him, allowing her to feel his arousal.

Their passionate movements brought them closer to the couch, much to his design. He turned them so that he fell back against the soft cushions, bringing her to land against him. They shared a smile, then, as they lay fully bodily against one another, feeling the other intimately pressed against them. This was new. This could not be misinterpreted. This was passion, and heat, and lust and something else. He knew what he wanted it to be, but he was certain he would have to convince her.

His hands moved to the buttons of her blouse, his eyes entreating her, even as the digits settled there. Her own hands moved to help him, her approval shown in her movements. He popped the buttons, his breath hitching with each inch of alabaster skin that was exposed to him. His tongue ran over his lips, his mouth suddenly dry as his brain registered that he was _finally _going to see what he had been dreaming of.

There was a knowing smirk on her face as she took in his reactions, and he felt chagrined momentarily. He knew that she was analysing his reactions, could tell him the exact chemicals and anthropological reasons for his excitement. But he couldn't think about that at that moment. All he could think was that he simply had to latch onto one of the delectable dusky nipples that had been bared to his gaze.

Her head went back as his went forward and he teased her with his tongue. His fingers moved to cover her other nipple, so as not to leave it lonely. His eyes closed in pleasure and he felt his arousal throb in anticipation. She was glorious. Her skin tasted like honey and sunshine and all things cliché. His brain was shutting down and he was fast moving into auto pilot. This was a dream. A rose coloured, surround sound, wet dream. He would wake to find his sheets twisted around his sweaty body, covered in his release and an unsatisfied feeling burning inside him.

And that was when he felt her nails on his back, sharp and fierce, bringing him back to the now. This wasn't a dream. This was real and he had a job to do.

He rolled them, pushing her back into the soft fabric and resting his weight against her. He relished the moan that tore from her lips. It urged him on. His hips did a quick thrust, pressing his hardness where she needed it most. She reciprocated by lifting her hips to his, allowing him to feel her heat. He was going to lose control any moment. He was on a precarious ledge, waiting to plummet.

Her top found its way to the floor and his followed quickly, by his hand or hers, he wasn't sure. His pants were soon removed in a flurry of passion that had him gasping. She had tricks he'd never imagined. Her pants were slightly more difficult to pull off as both were loath to separate. They managed to work them down her long, lithe legs to tangle at her ankles. Her shoes were flung off, landing somewhere near her desk with a _thud. _The pants were shown little respect as they were kicked and wiggled off.

And then there was just them, and flesh, and heat, and passion. They moved together. He entered her, her body accepting his girth willingly. He had doubts as to whether he could last. It was too hot, too wet, too tight, too _perfect. _His hips were moving and hers with them. They were driving towards a blinding, all-consuming end. His lips found hers and he smiled against them when he felt them trembling. Slipping a hand between them he found her pleasure centre and touched her, toppling her over the edge. Her abrupt completion tore his own from him and he spilled inside her with a shudder.

They lay there for some minutes, gasping, recovering, his flesh softening inside her. When he finally regained his strength he pushed back to find her gaze. She was watching him intently, the most erotic flush to her cheeks. He found himself stir again.

"What was that?" She asked softly, her eyes searching his.

"We made love."

"How did you know that I would agree?"

"I took a gamble."


End file.
